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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



LEGENDS OF 
SAN FRANCISCO 



OTHER BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR: 



Legends of Southern California. 
Oriental Rambles. 
Rainbow Stories. 
The Wizzywab. 



LEGENDS 

OF 

SAN FRANCISCO 



By 

GEORGE W. CALDWELL, M. D. 



Published by 

PHILLIPS & VAN ORDEN CO. 

SAN FRANCISCO. CAL. 






COPYRIGHTED 1919 

By 

GEORGE W. CALDWELL, M. D, 



OEC M is;9 

©CI.A5a5940 



DEDICATION. 

My San Francisco on her seven hills is smiling, 

Beside an opalescent sunset sea; 
There is a magic in her bracing air beguiling, 

Yet filling all with tireless energy. 
The tingling tang of open sea the breeze is giving; 

The fog rolls in and drives heat languors out, 
And thrills her loyal subjects with the joy of living, 

And puts the love of idleness to rout. 

When in the valleys, fervent summer heat oppresses, 

And gives na respite night or day, 
There is a City that the cooling fog caresses. 

Upon the breezy San Francisco Bay. 
When winter rains and sun have zurought in fragrant 
flowers 

A multicolored carpet on the land, 
A charm is in her circling hills and redzvood bowers 

That only those who see can understand. 



She has a mystic charm in all the changing seasons — 

A lure that brings the stranger to her door, 
And in these pages I will give the Indian's reasons 

For charms and lures, never told before. 
The legends of the hills, the fog, the gulls, the waters 

Idealize the beautiful and true; 
Allow me, therefore, California's Native Daughters, 

To dedicate this book of verse to you. 



CONTENTS. 

The Maid of Tamalpais 15 

The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate. . .41 

The Sea Gulls 61 

The Islands of the Bay 73 

The Lake of Merita 83 



THE MAID OF TAMALPAIS. 



THE MAID OF TAMALPAIS. 

^T^HIS she told me in the fireHght 
-*- As I sat beside her campfire, 
In a grove of giant redwoods, 
On the slope of Tamalpais. 

Old she was, and bent and wrinkled, 
Lone survivor of the Tamals, 
Ancient tribe of Indian people, 
Who have left their name and legend 
On the mountain they held sacred. 
On the ground she sat and brooded, 
With a blanket wrapped around her — 
Sat and gazed into the campfire. 
On her bronze and furrowed features, 
On her hair of snowy whiteness. 
Played the shadows and the firelight. 
Long she gazed into the embers, 
And I feared I had oflfended 

[15] 



16 Legends of San Francisco 



In the question I had asked her. 
Then she spoke in measured accents, 
Slowly, with a mournful cadence. 
And long intervals of silence. 

"You have asked me why my people 
Will not climb Mount Tamalpais — 
Why we hold the mountain sacred. 
I am old, and when the Raven 
Calls my spirit to the Father, 
None will know the ancient story. 
Sacred legend of the Tamals. 
Therefore, I will tell the story, 
I will tell and you shall write it, 
Else it will be lost forever; 
I will tell it that the paleface 
May respect our sacred mountain." 

"In the morning of creation 
All the world was covered over 
With the flood of troubled waters. 
Only Beaver and the Turtle 
Swam about upon the surface. 
Beaver said, T'm very weary.' 
Turtle said, 'Dive to the bottom.' 



The Maid of Tamalpais 17 



Beaver dove and brought up gravel, 
Laid it on the back of Turtle; 
Dove again and brought a pebble, 
Then another and another. 
Pebbles grew to rocks and boulders. 
As a peak above the waters — 
Thus was Mount Diablo fashioned. 

Beaver sat upon the mountain, 

Gazing out across the waters ; 

Saw a single feather floating; 

Feather grew into an Eagle ; 

Eagle flew and sat by Beaver. 

Long they talked about creation. 

Counseled, planned, and reconsidered. 

Then they moulded clay with tules ; 

Beaver placed his hair upon it, 

Eagle breathed into its nostrils— 

Thus Coyote was created. 

Coyote barked and sat beside them. 

Many creatures, were created ; 

Some with hair, and some with feathers 

Some with scales, or shells, or bristles. 



18 Legends of San Francisco 



Other peaks and mountain ridges 
Then appeared above the waters. 
Walls of hills were then continued 
North and south, to hold the waters 
In a mammoth lake, that, filling 
All the Sacramento Valley, 
Found its outlet to the ocean 
Through the Russian River Canyon. 
Round the lake the blazing mountains 
Spouted lava and hot ashes ; 
Casting on the troubled waters 
Lurid gleams and purple shadows. 

By the lake Coyote wandered — 

Sat and howled, for he was lonely. 

Lonely for a Man to tame him 

Into Dog as a companion. 

Then Coyote mixed dry tules 

With wet clay and made a figure. 

Sun God came and shone upon it; 

Spirit came and blew upon it, 

And a Man was thus created. 

Sun God made the Moon to guard him, 

And she stood before his tepee, 

Watching while the Sun was sleeping; 



The Maid of Tamalpais 19 



But she loved the Sun and followed 
Him into the starry heavens, 
Always with her face turned to him. 
Still she watched the lonely tepee, 
And her heart was touched with pity 
For the lonely man within it, 
So she made a lovely woman. 
Gave her constancy, and sent her 
On a moonbeam to his tepee. 
As his helpmate and companion. 
Man then multiplied, and flourished, 
Building villages and lording 
Over all the other creatures. 

On the sunny eastern margin 
Of the Bay of San Francisco, 
Grew the village of the Tamals ; 
Fisher folk they were, and gentle, 
Seeking not for wars of conquest; 
Fishing in the purple waters 
From their boats of bark or rawhide; 
Wading in the limpid shallows 
Seeking oysters, clams and mussels. 
In the course of generations 
Piles of shells of many banquets, 



20 Legends of San Francisco 



With the ashes of their campfires, 
Formed a mound upon the bay shore. 
Shell Mound Park, the people call it, 
And they gather in the shadows 
Of the ancient oaks for pleasure, 
Roasting clams as in the old days 
When the Tamals lived upon it. 
Gone are now the limpid shallows ; 
Gone the oysters and the mussels. 
And no more are grassy meadows 
Dappled with the spreading oak trees 
For great factories, grim and sordid. 
Sprawl in squalid blocks around it, 
And the smoke of forge and furnace 
Rise from stacks into the heavens. 

Paleface men with concave glasses. 
Learned in lore of printed pages, 
Dig into the mounds and gather 
Spear and arrow heads and axes, 
Broken w^eapons and utensils 
^lade of flint, or bone, or seashell. 



The Maid of Tamalpais 21 



To the northward, where great boulders 
Lie in tumbled piles and masses, 
And a Thousand Oaks are clustered. 
And the crags upthrust their fingers 
Tlirough the meadows of the uplands, 
Was another Indian village, 
Ancient stronghold of the Tamals. 

In the village on the hillside 
Men were hunters, brave and fearless. 
Skillful with the bow and arrow. 
Artful with the snare and deadfall; 
Hunting deer and elk and bison 
In the open grassy meadows, 
Tracking wolf and mountain lion 
To their lairs among the redwoods ; 
Bearing on their backs the trophies 
To their camp when night was falling. 

In the village maids and matrons 
Dressed the furs and tanned the buckskin, 
Dried the venison, and traded 
With the Shell Mound folks for salmon, 
Mussels, clams and abalones, 
Ornaments of bone or seashell, 



22 Legends of San Francisco 



Weapons chipped from flint or jasper. 
From the oaks they gathered acorns, 
And beneath the fragrant bay trees 
And the heavy blooming buckeyes, 
Ground the acorns into flour 
To be baked upon the hot-stones. 

To this day the smoke of campfires 
May be traced in caves, and crannies 
Where the overhanging chfifsides 
Gives protection from the rainstorms. 
If you search among the thickets 
Of the low widespreading buckeyes 
You will find their ancient mortars 
In the bedrock still remaining — 
Mortar holes ground deep, and polished 
By the toil of many women 
Pounding, grinding with a pestle 
Fashioned from a stream-worn boulder. 

Gone are all those ancient people, 
Perished now for many ages. 
Many oaks have grown and withered. 
Many buckeyes bloomed and faded. 
Many tribes have fought and conquered. 



The Maid of Tamalpais 23 



Lived for many generations, 
Then were driven out by others. 
Still the mortar holes will linger 
As our monuments forever." 

Fainter grew the voice, still fainter, 

Sinking almost to a whisper, 

With a hesitating quaver, 

As the picture came before her 

Of her disappearing people. 

Then I rose and piled more branches 

Of the redwood on the campfire. 

And the flames and sparks leaped upward, 

Lighting up the mournful forest. 

Driving back the eerie shadows. 

Long she bowed her head in silence. 
Then resumed her rythmic speaking. 
In the village lived a maiden. 
Fairest of all comely maidens 
Ever born among the Tamals ; 
Fair of face and pure of spirit, 
Kind in thought and quick in service 
To the young and old and helpless ; 
Ever eager for her duty, 
Ever singing at her labor. 



24 Legends of San Francisco 



When she sat beneath the buckeyes 
Grinding acorns in the mortar, 
Humming birds came sipping honey 
From the heavy scented blossoms ; 
Wild birds came and sang their sweetest 
Music as they perched above her; 
x\nd the Fairies came to greet her 
Dressed as Butterflies, and fluttered 
Round her head and whispered secrets- 
Secrets not revealed to others. 

Little wonder that the Chieftain, 
Young and brave and wise in counsel. 
Loved the maid and Vv^ished to take her 
As his wife to rule his people. 
But she answered him with sadness, 
For she loved the youth, 'Beloved, 
This is not the time for lovers. 
But for warriors to make ready, 
For a danger comes upon us. 
God has sent a warning message 
By the Fairies, and they whispered 
To me as I ground the acorns 
In the mortar 'neath the buckeyes. " 



The Maid of Tamalpais 25 



Rally all your braves around you, 
Sieze your strong bows, fill your quivers 
With the long flint-pointed arrows ; 
Guard the ridges to the eastward 
Ere the foe shall fall upon us/ 

To the eastward where Diablo 
Rears its peak above the fog banks 
Drifting landward from the ocean, 
Lived a warlike tribe of people. 
Fierce they were, and grim and cruel, 
Worshiping the Fire Demon 
Who is crouching in the mountain. 

From their heights they saw the waters 
Of the Bay of San Francisco 
Lying crystal-clear and purple. 
Then no Sacramento River 
Poured its flood of silt into it, 
For a range of hills continued. 
All unbroken,- from Diablo 
To the distant smoking mountain 
Which is now called Saint Helena. 



26 Legends of San Francisco 



Long they watched the bay and marveled 

At its strange, alluring beauty ; 

Watched it in its changing colors — 

In the gray of misty mornings, 

In the blue of sunny mid-day. 

In the glories of the sunset. 

In the silver flood of moonlight — 

It enticed and seemed to beckon, 

Then, as ever, to the strangers. 

Long their Wizards danced, and rattled 

With their gourds, to rouse the Demon 

Of the Mountain to assist them — 

Danced until they fell in frenzy. 

Prophesying wealth of plunder. 

Warriors danced and chanted war songs, 

Stamped and shouted, waved their war clubs, 

With the war paint on their bodies. 

Black and yellow and vermillion. 

Hideous and terrifying 

Were they when they took the warpath. 



The Maid of Tamalpais 27 



Oh, the terror of their coming! 
Oh, the horror of the battle 
On the meadows of the uplands ! 
Forward, by the strength of numbers. 
Pressed the Devils of Diablo ; 
Slowly backward fell the Tamals 
To the Stronghold of the Boulders. 
When the darkness of the midnight 
Fell as a protecting blanket, 
Silently my tribe retreated, 
Ere the ring should be completed 
By the merciless invaders. 
All the Tamals started northward — 
Men and women, little children — 
Through the open, grassy meadows. 
Through the forest to the ridges 
Circling round the Bay below them. 
At the dawning of the morning 
They were resting on a hilltop. 
To the west the Bay was sleeping 
Underneath its misty blanket; 
To the east a lake was gleaming 
In the rosy light of sunrise. 



28 Legends of San Francisco 



While they rested on the mountain, 
Weary, footsore, and disheartened, 
Came pursuing scouts to spy them. 
Fierce and bloody was the combat, 
All the rocks were stained with crimson. 
Then the scouts, or those still living, 
Fled to tell their wicked Chieftain 
Where to find the fleeing Tamals. 

Loud the wail of lamentation 

When the Tamals saw their warriors 

Who had fallen in the combat 

Lying lifeless on the mountain. 

Louder still, the cry of anguish 

When they found their Maid of Mercy 

Helpless now, and sorely wounded. 

No more would her strong young shoulders 

Bear the wounded braves to safety, 

Nor would she withdraw the arrow^s, 

Rind the wounds nor stanch the bleeding. 

On the shoulder of the Chieftain 
She was carried, for no other 
Had such strength and gentle manner. 
On his shoulder thus he bore her. 



The Maid of Tamalpais 29 



Fleeing northward on the ridges, 
Bore her gladly, for he loved her. 
All the women were exhausted, 
All the children, tired and weeping; 
Half the warriors, dead or wounded — 
Slow and painful was the progress. 

On they fled, but often turning. 
Looking backward o'er their shoulders, 
Fearful lest the foe overtake them 
Ere they reached a place of safety. 

Came a deadly fear upon them ! 

*We are lost,' they cried in terror, 

For a league behind them, followed 

Such a host of men or devils 

That they could not hope to conquer. 

'We are lost,' they moaned, 'Their number 

Is the number of the needles 

On the redwoods in the forest; 

And they follow as the foxes 

Follow rabbits in the open.' 



30 Legends of San Francisco 



'We shall die, oh, my beloved,' 
Said the Chieftain to the maiden. 
'And die gladly,' said the maiden, 
*If our people may not perish. 
As I sat beneath the buckeye 
At my mortar, grinding acorns. 
Fairy butterflies came to me. 
Fluttered round my head and told me 
That an enemy was coming; 
And I warned you, oh, my lover.' 
'Aye, you did, my best beloved.' 
'And they promised, oh, my lover. 
That our God would save our people 
Should I offer up my spirit 
As a sacrifice before Him.' 

And the young Chief spoke, and answered, 
'Life without you would be empty; 
Let my spirit travel with you 
Through the spaces of the heavens, 
To the upper world of spirits.' 

'It shall be as you have spoken,' 
Said the maiden to her lover, 
'And I know that God will answer 



The Maid of Tamalpais 31 



With a mighty sign from heaven. 

Stoop, and bow your head, my lover, 

That my face may turn to heaven. 

Mighty Father, save my people, 

Take my spirit and my lover's 

To the spirit land of lovers; 

Lift your hand and strike the mountain! 

Cut a chasm ivide, betzveen us 

And the zuicked ones zvho follozv; 

Save my people, oh, my Father, 

Strike the mountain! Strike the mountain!' 

Came a rumble in the distance, 
Nearer, louder, terrifying! 
God had heard her prayer, and lifted 
Up his hand to strike the mountain. 
When the mighty blow descended 
With the crash of many thunders, 
All the mountains rocked and trembled. 
Rose and fell, and swayed and shuddered; 
And across the Coast Range Mountains 
Yawned a chasm, hot and smoking; 
Into it careened the hillsides; 
Mountains swooned and fell into it. 



32 Legends of San Francisco 



Through it, as a giant skiiceway, 

Rushed the roaring, boihng waters 

Of the lake, in tumbling tumult. 

Flooding all the bayside lowlands. 

Racing through the Golden Gateway 

In a cataract stupendous. 

Saint Helena burst its crater 

With a blast that leveled forests, 

And the falling sand and cinders 

Buried deep the fallen giants. 

To be petrified to agate. 

Through the steam and sulphurous vapors, 

Flashed the lightning on the mountains, 

And the din of quake and thunder 

Beat the air until it quivered. 

When God, his righteous wrath abating, 
Ceased to shake and rend and deluge. 
And the last reverberation 
Died away into the distance, 
And the trade winds from the ocean 
Blew away the smoke and vapors. 
Those remaining of the Tamals 
Gazed with wonder at a mountain 



The Maid of Tamalpais 33 



That was standing, new, before them, 
For upon it lay the maiden 
With her face upturned to heaven. 
As it was when she was praying 
To her God to save her people. 
On her youthful breast and body 
Lay a forest, like a mantle, 
New and green, and decked with flowers. 
And her willing feet were resting 
Near the bay and new-made river; 
While the Chief, her faithful lover. 
Bending 'neath his sacred burden, 
Stretched his arms out to the valleys 
Where his people would find shelter. 

Here for countless generations 
We have lived in peace and safety, 
Roaming through the wooded valleys, 
Hunting on the grassy meadows, 
Fishing in the bays and rivers. 

Now you know the sacred story 
Of the Maid of Tamalpais — 
Why no Tamal ever ventured 
To the holy crest above us. 



34 Legends of San Francisco 



Would we tread upon the features 
Of the martyred Maid who saved us? 
Would we desecrate the rock-tomb 
Of our Chief, her well beloved? 

There she lies in all her beauty, 
Sacred Maid of Tamalpais ! 
If her eyes should turn from heaven, 
She would see across the waters 
Piles of tumbled crags and boulders 
In the Grove of Thousand Oak Trees, 
Where the buckeye trees still blossom 
Over mortar holes,, half hidden. 
Children play with merry laughter 
Hide and seek among the boulders. 
Even now perhaps, the Fairies 
Dressed as butterflies may whisper 
Secrets in the ears of children. 
If they listen to the voices. 

If her eyes should trace the steamers 
As they thread the curving channel 
Opened by the ancient earthquake. 
She would see them pass an island 



The Maid of Tamalpais 35 



On whose red and barren summit 
She was wounded in the battle. 
White men call it Red Rock Island, 
Knowing not the crimson color 
Is from blood, shed in the battle 
Fought upon the lofty summit 
Of a mountain that was swallowed 
When the mighty chasm opened. 
Leaving but its peak projecting 
Through the surface of the waters. 

There she lies in queenly beauty, 
Martyred Maid of Tamalpais, 
With her face upturned to heaven, 
As when praying, 'Take me. Father ; 
Save my people ; Save the Tamals.' 
On her head the snows of winter 
Lay a crown of shining crystals. 
Fog banks twine their arms about her 
To embrace her and caress her. 
Passing rainclouds bathe her features 
With their tear drops, shed in sorrow, 
And the rainbow arches over 
With the glories of a halo. 



36 Legends of San Francisco 



She is first to have the greeting 
Of the rising sun, and latest 
To receive his goodnight kisses. 
On her sides the purple shadows 
Linger longest in the twilight. 
For her robe the fairest wildflowers 
Bloom throughout the changing seasons- 
Violets, and pink wild roses, 
Blue forget-me-nots, and lilies 
Vie to give their sweetest perfumes 
To the Maid of Tamalpais. 

Lovers climb the sacred mountain, 
Roam the hillsides, tread the wildwoods, 
Finding there new inspiration, 
Hope and happiness, not knowing 
That the Maid of Tamalpais 
Gives her spirit to all lovers 
Who approach her mystic presence. 

I, the last of all the Tamals, 
Soon will turn my face to heaven 
Where my own, my best beloved, 
Waits with outstretched arms, to greet me. 



The Maid of Tamalpais 37 



Write the story for all people ; 
It is finished; I have spoken." 
Thus she spoke, that ancient woman, 
Lone survivor of the Tamals, 
By the campfire in the redwoods, 
On the slopes of Tamalpais. 



THE TWIN GUARDIANS OF 
THE GOLDEN GATE. 



THE TWIN GUARDIANS OF 
THE GOLDEN GATE. 



WOULD you know the mystic legend 
Of the peaks of San Francisco — 
Of the Twin Peaks standing Guardian 
Of the gay and careless city, 
Ever laughing by the gateway 
Of our Golden California? 

Would you know what brings the westwind, 
With its cool and filmy vapors 
Trailing Hke a scarf of chiffon 
Through the narrow Golden Gateway, 
Screening shore and hills and harbor, 
While the country all around it 
Bathes in floods of golden sunshine? 

[411 



42 Legends of San Francisco 



Would you know why great Sea Lions 
Flounder on the rocky islands, 
Standing by the Golden Gateway? 
Why they fight in baffled fury, 
Barking ever at the mainland? 

Listen then, and I will tell you 
As the legend was related 
By an ancient Tamal woman. 
As she sat beside the campfire 
In a grove of giant redwoods 
On the slopes of Tamalpais. 

*'It was long ago, my children, 
Long ago, in mystic ages 
When the Gods lived near the people, 
Who, like infants newly mothered, 
Needed care and help and guidance. 
As the children call to parents 
So the people called to Spirits. 
Then the Gods were quick to listen, 
Quick to teach them and protect them. 
Quick to punish when they trespassed 
On the rights of one another. 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 43 



Near the place where Holy Fathers 

Built the Mission of Dolores 

Was a village of the Tamals, 

Vanished now for many ages. 

By it was a singing streamlet, 

Where the willows waved their banners ; 

Round it giant redwoods clustered, 

Redolent with forest odors; 

Live oaks, bay trees, and madronas 

Billowed over plains and hillsides. 

Through the forest ranged the hunters, 
Seeking game in glen and canyon. 
Meat for food, and fur for raiment; 
Vanquishing the forest creatures 
With flint arrows and stone axes ; 
Seeking fish in bay and river 
With the spear or net of sinew. 
On the bay the warriors paddled 
In canoes of bark or rawhide, 
Or in mighty redwood dugouts 
Dared the currents of the narrows 
Training warriors to be ready 
To defend their shores and harbor. 



44 Legends of San Francisco 



From the North the foemen threatened, 
As an ever-present shadow. 
O'er the water came the foemen, 
In a mighty fleet of warboats; 
Every summer came the foemen, 
Came and fought and then retreated. 

In his tepee sat the Chieftain 
With the Old Men, wise in counsel; 
All their hearts were solely troubled — 
Every summer brought the foemen, 
Those bronze men of fearless courage. 
Waxing stronger every season — 
Long they counseled with each other; 
Would the foemen come and conquer? 
Could the Tamals long withstand them? 
Thus they questioned in the Council 
While they planned their last defenses. 

To the Council came the sisters, 
Yana fair, and Tana fearless, 
Twins, and daughters of the Chieftain, 
Came and stood before the wise men. 
Came and bowed their heads and waited. 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 45 



Well the wise men knew the sisters, 
Maidens blooming into women, 
Loved them for their grace and beauty, 
For the joy they radiated, 
For the charm that emanated 
From their chaste and gentle spirits, 
As the perfume that is wafted 
From the rose buds newly opened. 

Yet the Wise Men gave no welcome. 
Turned their eyes from Maids to Chieftain. 
"Why, my Daughters, have you ventured 
Into this, the warrior's council? 
Well you know it is forbidden ; 
Neither man nor woman enters 
When the warriors plan for battle." 

"Let us speak," the Maidens answered, 
"For we bring a warning message. 
As we wandered on the ridges 
Gathering the golden poppies 
To adorn our Mother's tepee, 
We were talking of the danger 
From the foemen of the Northland, 



46 Legends of San Francisco 

When a Maiden stood before us, 
Strangely fair, with golden tresses. 
Eyes of deep blue like the lupins, 
Dressed in garlands made of poppies. 
Hand in hand we stood and wondered, 
Till the lovely apparition 
Smiled and caused our fears to vanish. 
*I am the Spirit of the Country,' 
Said the Maiden of the Poppies, 
'And I choose you, my Twin Daughters, 
For the beauty of your bodies, 
And the worth of soul within you, 
As the saviors of your people, 
As the guardians of my harbor. 
Take the message to your Chieftain, 
That the foe comes from the Northland; 
Yet they shall not harm your people 
If you stand upon the hilltop 
With the talisman I give you. 
Take this Magic Iris with you. 
Guard it well for every petal 
Has a charm that brings an answer 
To a prayer that is unselfish. 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 47 



To a prayer for all the people 
That will hve around your harbor. 
Never, while you guard the hilkop, 
Shall a foe invade your country. 
Petals three there are ; three wishes 
Shall be granted when you make them.' 
Then the Poppy Maiden vanished, 
And we hastened to our village. 
Hand in hand, we ran so swiftly 
That our feet but touched the flowers; 
While above our heads the wild ducks 
Flying southward clamored hoarsely, 
'They are coming; They are coming!' 
Sea gulls, winging from the ocean. 
Shrieked their warning, 'They are coming!' 
Then we dared to brave your Council 
With the message of the Maiden, 
And the warning of the seabirds. 

Tt is well,' the Chieftain answered, 
'Daughters with the eyes of springtime 
And the faces of the flowers. 
It is well. The Gods have marked you 



48 Legends of San Francisco 



With their sign upon the forehead; 
You have stood before a Goddess, 
And her spirit is upon you.' 

Long the Old Men sat and pondered. 
Well they knew the ears of children 
Are attuned to hear the voices 
Of the Gods and Guardian Spirits. 
Well they knew that all wild creatures 
Speak to man if one is worthy 
To receive their friendly warning; 
Knew that seabirds, swift and cunning, 
See the foemen while their war boats 
Still are far beyond the sea-rim. 
Thus they reasoned in their council, 
Then they stood before the people 
While the Chieftain gave his orders. 

'Beat the war drums. Call the warriors. 

Man the war canoes, and station 

Sentinels upon the headlands 

Up the coast-land to Bolinas. 

Let them light the lurid war fires, • 

When they see the foemen coming.' 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 49 



Swiftly northward raced the sentries 

In their hght canoes of deerskin — 

Through the narrows to Bonita, 

On the ocean to Bohnas. 

All was tumult in the village; 

To each warrior was given 

Long bows, strong bows, wrapped with sinews, 

Stores of arrows, eagle feathered. 

Newly tipped with sharpest flint-heads; 

Stone head war clubs, wrapped with rawhide; 

Shields of oakwood, tough and heavy. 

Women decked the braves with feathers. 

Robes of fur, and charms of seashell ; 

Roused their courage with the stories 

Of the prowess of their Fathers; 

Cheered with songs of deeds of valor 

Of the heroes of the Tamals ; 

While the children, heavy hearted. 

Watched the scene in wide-eyed wonder. 

Every day the Chieftain's daughters. 
As twin sentinels were standing 
On the hill between the valley 
And the blue expanse of ocean. 



50 Legends of San Francisco 

Every day they watched the Morning 
Reach his rosy fingers upward, 
From behind the eastern mountains, 
Painting with an elfin fancy. 
Crimson edges on the cloudbanks; 
Then erasing and repainting 
Them with gold or mauve or amber; 
Always changing, as his fancy 
Swayed the child to blend the colors ; 
Till Old Father Sun uprising. 
Drove his elfin son to shelter 
From the dazzle of his presence. 

All day long the faithful sisters 
Stood upon the ridge and waited — 
Waited while the Sun ascended. 
Crossed the zenith, then descended 
On his daily westward journey. 
Watched him sink into the ocean 
As a molten globe of metal; 
While the fleecy clouds above him 
Caught afire, and blazed in beauty, 
Radiating flaming colors 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 51 



Through the changing clouds, and Hghting 
O'er the purple sea a pathway 
Glinting in a golden glory. 

Evening came, and still they waited — 
While the heavenly dome turned purple. 
And the twinkHng stars were lighted, 
One by one, until the darkness 
Scintillated with their sparkle; 
And a milky way of star-dust 
Arched across, to hold the heavens 
High above the reach of mortals. 

Through the night they watched and waited- 
While the silver moon was racing 
Through the silken clouds, and flooding 
All the bay and hills and ocean 
With a pale illumination, 
Casting moving shadows earthward 
When a dark cloud passed before her. 
Wild Coyotes broke the silence 
Of the midnight with their barking, 
And the prowling Wolves crept nearer. 
Till the patter of their footsteps 
Could be heard in stealthy rushes. 



52 Legends of San Francisco 



Still the fearless Sisters waited, 
Watched the north for signal fires, 
And in eager alternation 
Held the Magic Yellow Iris. 

Came at last the welcome singing 
Of the Meadow Lark and Robin, 
And above the eastern mountains 
Flushed the rose-light of the morning; 
Then again the sky was tinted 
By the Elf who plays with colors, 
And the sleeping poppies wakened 
When the sunbeams kissed their eyelids. 

From the Heights of Point Bonita 
Rose a thread of smoke that lengthened, 
Broadened, flaunted like a banner. 
Black and ominous of evil. 
"They are coming!" Yana whispered, 
''See, the signal fires are Hghted ! 
They are coming. Guardian Spirit 
Of our native country, save us!" 
And she pressed the Yellow Iris 
Closely to her throbbing bosom. 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 53 



Over northern rim of ocean 
Came the war canoes by hundreds, 
Came until the waters darkened 
With the number of the warboats. 
Never could the Tamals conquer 
Such a multitude of foemen. 
Swiftly rose and fell their paddles, 
Flashing in the brilliant sunshine, 
Trailing scarfs of foam behind them. 
As they raced toward the harbor. 

Tana searched the far horizon, 
Saw the signal fires blazing 
On the mountain tops and headlands. 
Heard the war drums in the village 
Roll in constant wild alarum. 

Yana held the Yellow Iris 
With the Magic in its petals, 
Held and gazed with adoration 
On the velvet mystic markings. 
Then she plucked a magic petal, 
Held it high, and ere it fluttered 
To the breeze this prayer was uttered 



54 Legends of San Francisco 



'Spirit of our Native Country, 
Goddess guarding home and harbor, 
Roll the fog-hanks o'er the headlands, 
Hide the narrozvs from the foenien; 
Bring the west-wind from the ocean. 
Drive their boats to crash and shatter 
On the rocky surf-bound islands. 
Bring the zvest-zvind! Bring the fog-banks!' 

From the ocean came the west-wind, 
Blowing stronger, growing cooler, 
Bringing in protecting fog-banks. 
Sweeping landward o'er gray waters, 
Flooding through the Golden Gateway, 
Rolling over shore and headlands. 

Through the fog the boats were racing 
For the entrance to the harbor, 
When they plunged into the smother 
Of the breakers round the islands — 
Crashed upon the rocks and splintered. 
From the surf the foemen struggled 
To the rocks and scrambled on them. 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 55 



Then the Maiden plucked another 
Petal from the Magic Iris, 
And she prayed again, 'Oh, Spirit 
Of our Native Country, hear iis^ 
Change the foemen to Sea-creatures, 
That they never more attack us.' 

As the magic petal fluttered 
To the ground the foe was changing. 
Arms and paddles changed to flippers; 
Legs were bound as in a bandage, 
And their brown and hairy bodies 
Wriggled on the rocks, and crowded, 
Barking, fighting one another. 

When the danger was averted, 
When the enemy was helpless. 
Sisters wept, embraced each other, 
Thanked the Gods for their deliverance. 

Still remained another petal 

Of the Magic Yellow Iris. 

'One more wish we have, one only.' 

Said one sister to the other. 



56 Legends of San Francisco 



'Would we might remain forever, 
As the guardians of the harbor, 
To protect it from all foemen. 
To invoke the fog and west-wind.' 

Then, again The Poppy Maiden 

Stood triumphantly before them. 

'You have chosen well, my children, 

Had you wished for wealth or beauty. 

Robes or jewels for adornment, 

Or for any selfish purpose. 

Then the petals would have fallen 

To the earth and lost their Magic. 

My twin daughters, ever faithful, 

All your thoughts are for your people; 

Therefore, you shall be immortal. 

Standing on the heights forever. 

As the Guardians of the Harbor. 

Draw your mantles around your shoulders, 

Furs they are, but flowers they shall be. 

As my garments are of flowers. 

So shall yours be, golden poppies, 

Lupins, blue, shall deck your mantle. 

Blue and gold shall be your colors — 



The Twin Guardians of the Golden Gate 57 



Blue, for purity of purpose; 

Gold, for worth of soul and spirit. 

While you stand above the harbor, 

While you call the fog and west-wind, 

While you wear your cloak of poppies, 

Never shall a foeman enter 

Through the Golden Gate with war-boats. 

Pluck the petal, let it flutter 

To the ground. Your wish is granted. 

Stand forever, native daughters. 

As Twin Peaks, to guard the harbor.' 

That was long ago, my children. 
When the earth was young, and people 
Heard the voices of the Spirits — 
Knew the language of the sea-birds. 
To this day the ancient warriors 
Flounder on the Sea Rock Islands, 
Barking, roaring, crowding, fighting. 
Near the gateway of the harbor. 
Still the Sisters, as the Twin Peaks, 
Guard the city and the harbor. 
In the summer, at the season 
When the ancient foes came southward, 



58 Legends of San Francisco 



They invoke the cooHng west-wind 
With its fog, to screen the harbor; 
Yet, the sunhght seeks the valley 
Where the ancient tepees clustered, 
Beaming there in benediction. 
While around it lie the shadows.' 

That, my children, is the legend 
Told beside the evening campfire 
By the ancient Tamal woman, 
In a grove of giant redwoods. 
On the slopes of Tamalpais. 



THE SEA GULLS. 



THE SEA GULLS. 

ROUND the boat the Sea Gulls hovered, 
Soaring on their spreading pinions, 
Floating on the air, but turning 
Searching eyes upon the people; 
Searching, searching, always searching, 
Winging, swinging, darting, calling 
In their plaintive tones, "Ah-we-a." 

By my side my friend, the Tamal, 
Stood and gazed upon the Sea Gulls. 
Long he gazed in deep abstraction, 
Then he said, 'They still are searching. 
Still are calling to Ah-we-a. 
Would you know the Tamal legend 
Of Ah-we-a and the Sea Gulls? 

1611 



62 Legends of San Francisco 



Know you, then, that these bkie waters 
Were not always cahn and peaceful. 
Once the Sea King, grim and moody, 
Held his court within this harbor — 
Held his carnivals of beauty, 
And his wild and stormy revels. 

In the cove of Sausalito, 
Where the houses of the paleface 
Terrace on the wooded hillside 
And the sailboats ride at anchor. 
Lived a tribe of fisher people, 
Building homes among the crannies 
Of the rocks upon the bay shore. 
Fishing in the harbor waters 
From their light canoes of redwood — 
Fishing boldly in defiance 
Of the Sea King's fitful anger 
At the raiding of his Kingdom 
And the slaughter of his subjects. 



The Sea Gulls 63 



Oft the Sea King, in reprisal, 
Lashed the harbor with his west wind 
Till the breakers leaped in frenzy, 
Overturning boats and claiming 
Many fishermen as victims. 

Those who clung in desperation 
To their boats and reached the mainland 
Told the tale of their encounter 
With the Sea King in the tempest. 
Through the smother of the surges, 
Through the driving rain and fog-banks. 
Came the Sea King's boat upon them. 
Drawn by floundering sea horses 
With their manes of seafoam curling 
From the prow and backward trailing. 
Through the mist they saw it faintly, 
As a ghostly apparition. 
Riding down upon the billows — 
Phantom ship, at times transparent. 
White or gray — to ride them over; 
Racing nearer, nearer, nearer, 
Then dissolving into vapor; 



64 Legends of San Francisco 



Or, at times, it darted past them 
Giving glimpses through the fog-banks 
Of the Furies at the paddles. 
Bending, dipping, throwing surges 
From their mighty magic paddles, 
While the wake of foaming waters 
Seethed and boiled in whrilpool currents. 

Long the warfare had continued. 

Fishermen must live by fishing, 

And the Sea King claimed his victims 

Through a strategy of cunning. 

Seeking ever to beguile them 

To the sea to work his vengeance. 

When day dawned in rosy splendor 

Calm and still the harbor waters 

As a sea of purple satin. 

Only wrinkled into ruffles. 

Ever widening in a circle 

Where the fishes leaped the surface. 



The Sea Gulls (35 



Fishermen with song and laughter, 
Waved farewell to wives and children, 
Paddled off into the silence; 
Then, without a sign of warning, 
Gales arose and lashed the harbor 
Till the waters writhed and tumbled, 
Wave on wave, in thundering tumult; 
And the Sea King, in his anger. 
Dashed the boats, o'erturned and empty, 
High upon the rocky seashore 
At the feet of wailing women. 

Queen Ah-we-a of the Fishers 
Mourned the sorrows of her people; 
Comforted the weeping widows; 
Cared for all the Httle orphans. 
Little wonder that her subjects 
Loved the gentle Queen Ah-we-a. 

Long the Queen in silence pondered 
On the perils of her people. 
Long she stood upon the headland 
Where the wind-distorted cedars 



66 Legends of San Francisco 



Cling upon the rocky hillside. 

Long she prayed to the Great Spirit 

For his guidance and protection. 

Long she prayed and watched and waited 

Till the moon came up and silvered 

All the sea, and cast the shadows 

Of the cedars, weird and lonely. 

From the harbor came the night winds 
Robed in tinsel veils of vapors, 
And they whispered in the branches 
Of the cedar trees above her — 
Whispered of the King, their master, 
Whispered terms for ceasing warfare. 

Ah-we-a heard the hard conditions. 
Bowed her head as in submission. 
On her face the resolution 
For a sacrifice was graven — 
For a sacrifice so noble 
That the Spirit in the Heavens 
Smiled and promised, in her absence, 
To protect her Fisher people. 



The Sea Gulls 67 



Morning dawned, with vapors brooding 
On the silent glassy waters. 
Queen Ah-we-a called her people 
To the sandy shore, and standing 
In her light canoe of deer skin, 
Told them of her night-long vigil. 
'Now I go,' she said in parting. 
To the great boat of the Sea King, 
There to plead that storms be banished, 
Banished from our bay forever. 
The Great Spirit will protect you 
Till I come again to lead you.' 
Then her paddle dipped the water, 
And her light canoe of deer skin 
Went into the fog and faded, 
Faded to a shadow outline, 
Then was gone into the silence. 

Long and watchfully the people 
Waited for the Queen Ah-we-a. 
Then a great fear came upon them. 
'She is lost. The wicked Sea King 
Holds her hostage on his war boat.' 



68 Legends of San Francisco 



Thus they mourned, and prayed the Father, 

The Great Spirit, that he give them 

Wings to fly above the waters 

Where the Sea King could not reach them. 

'Give us wings,' they prayed 'On pinions 

Would we fly to find Ah-we-a. 

Change us, Father, into sea birds. 

Let us search and find Ah-we-a, 

And at last, zvhen we have found her, 

Change us back to Fisher People. 

In the flicker of an eyelid, 

All the fisher men and women 

And their children changed to Sea Gulls. 

And the Father, ever mindful 

Of his promise to Ah-we-a, 

Put into the hearts of mortals 

Universal love for Sea Gulls. 

Laws have even been enacted 

To protect them from the hunters. 



The Sea Gulls 69 



To this day the faithful Sea Gulls 
Search the Bay, now free from tempests; 
Search the ferry boats and steamers, 
Soaring by on spreading pinions, 
Peering into people's faces, 
Searching for their Queen Ah-we-a. 
Winging, swinging, darting, calling 
In their plaintive tones, 'Ah-we-a ;' 
For they know that when they find her 
They will change to human beings. 
Subjects of the Queen Ah-we-a. 



Thus was told the ancient legend 
Of Ah-we-a and the Sea Gulls. 



THE ISLANDS OF THE BAY. 



THE ISLANDS OF THE BAY 

rpAMALPAIS wrapped her mantle 
■■■ Of the clouds about her shoulders. 
Gray the day, and melancholy, 
For December rains were falling, 
Falling in a steady downpour. 
Mournful branches of the redwoods. 
Drooping, dripping, swayed above us; 
Moaned above the lonely cabin 
On the slope of Tamalpais. 
Raindrops pattered on the shingles. 
Beat against the eastern windows. 
Flooding down the glass in torrents. 

Through the veil of slanting rainfall 
Could be seen the distant harbor. 
With its flecks of fleecy vapors 
Floating, merging, disappearing. 



173] 



74 Legends of San Francisco 

In the fireplace of the cabin, 
Logs and knots of pine were blazing, 
Snapping with the pitch imprisoned; 
Flocks of sparks were flying upward; 
Flags of flame were waving welcome. 
Warming, cheering, exorcising 
Ghosts of Gloom and eerie phantoms; 
Bringing brightness and the odor 
Of the burning pitch that lingers 
As the incense of the forests. 

By the fireplace sat the Tamal, 
Lone survivor of her people — 
Sat and listened to the patter 
Of the raindrops on the shingles. 
To the soughing of the west-wind 
In the branches of the redwoods. 
Long she gazed upon the harbor. 
Lying leaden-gray below us. 
Then, she told this ancient legend — 
Legend of her tribe, the Tamals, 
Legend of an ancient deluge. 



The Islands of the Bay 75 

"Do you see," she said, "the Islands 
Of the Albatross and Beaver? 
By another name you call them. 
One is crested by a prison, 
Grim and somber, melancholy; 
One is gay with flags and bunting, 
Ringing with the martial music 
Of your sailor boys in training; 
Yet, if you observe them closely. 
You will see in one the profile 
Of an Albatross, a giant 
Sea bird, sleeping on the water; 
While the other is a Beaver 
Facing always to the eastward. 
When the noon sun casts its shadows 
You may see his stony features 
From the deck of ferry steamers 
Near the pier that wades the shallows 
On the harbor's eastern border, 
Tamals call them Sacred Islands 
Of the Albatross and Beaver, 
For upon their backs were carried 
All the Tamals through the deluge. 



76 Legends of San Francisco 



Down the ages came the legend, 
Told by Fathers to the children, 
Told on rainy winter evenings 
Round the campfires of the Tamals. 

From the ocean rolled the rain-clouds, 
Came unceasingly the rain-clouds. 
Black and heavy were the rain-clouds, 
Lighted only by the flashes 
Of the lightning playing in them. 
Fell the rain as falls the torrents 
In the waterfalls of rivers. 
Fell through days of murky darkness. 
Fell through nights of inky blackness. 
Fell for days and nights unnumbered. 
Waters covered plains and valleys. 
On the coast the sea was rising. 
Flooding all the lower country, 
Creeping up the mountain foothills; 
Still the rains in floods descended. 



The Islands of the Bay 77 



Up the slopes of Tamalpais 
Climbed the people of the Tamals, 
While behind them crept the waters, 
Covering the hills and mountains. 
One by one the peaks were swallowed 
In the flood of rising waters. 
On the gray and sullen waters 
Floated logs and trees uprooted; 
On the trunks and in the branches 
Cowered creatures of the forests, 

Then the people prayed the Spirit — 
Prayed the Father in the Heavens — 
That he save his tribe, the Tamals, 
Ere the waters rise above them; 
And the Spirit heard their pleading. 
Sent the Albatross and Beaver, 
Giant messengers from Heaven, 
As the Saviors of the Tamals. 

Albatross came from the westward, 
Through. the lightning of the storm-clouds, 
Growing larger, coming nearer. 
Till the thunder of his pinions 



78 Legends of San Francisco 



Echoed from the cHffs above them, 
Then he rested on the waters. 

From the eastward came the Beaver, 
Swimming through the turbid waters, 
Growing, growing, ever growing. 
Till he had become a Giant, 
On whose back the tribe of Tamals 
Could find refuge from the waters. 

Then a voice spoke from the storm-clouds, 

Spoke in mighty tones of thunder: 

'I have heard your prayer. Oh Tamals; 

You shall live, and shall re-people 

All the world with men and women. 

I will give to them the spirit 

Of the Albatross who searches 

Distant seas on tireless pinions. 

I will give to them the wisdom 

Of the Beaver who with patience 

Labors, building and constructing. 

On the Albatross and Beaver 

You shall ride, until the waters 

Shall return to their own borders.' 



The Islands of the Bay 79 



On the Albatross and Beaver 
All the Tamals rode in safety, 
While the swirling deluge covered 
All the foothills and the mountains. 
Then the northwind, dry and scorching, 
Drove the rain-clouds to the ocean, 
And the sun-rays, piercing through them, 
Glinted on the troubled waters. 
Came the peak of Tamalpais 
As an island to the surface; 
Down the slopes the flood receded 
Baring forests to the sunlight. 
Then the grass-lands of the valleys 
And the old familiar coastline. 

With rejoicing all the Tamals 
Sought their homes along the bayshorc, 
Singing thanks to the Great Spirit, 
Singing praises to their saviors. 
Giant Albatross and Beaver, 
Resting then, within the harbor. 
Then again, in voice of thunder. 
Spoke the Spirit from the Heavens ; 



80 Legends of San Francisco 



'Let the Totem of the Tamals 
Be the Albatross and Beaver; 
Search and Labor, be their motto; 
And, lest children of their children 
May forget their mighty saviors, 
Giant Albatross and Beaver 
Shall be changed to rocky Islands — 
Monuments to stand forever. 
In the Harbor of the Tamals.' 

Thus the ancient Tamal woman 
Told the Legend of the Islands, 
While December rains v^ere falling, 
And the fragrant pine was burning 
In the fireplace of the cabin 
On the slope of Tamalpais. 



THE LAKE OF MERITA. 



THE LAKE OF MERITA 

^T^HE lengthening shadows of evening 
-■■ Were creeping on Mount Tamalpais, 
Painting with purple the valleys, 
Gilding the ridges and summit. 
Green were the groves of the redwoods, 
Lacing their branches together; 
Through them the last rays of sunlight 
Pierced to the carpet of needles. 
Only the tinkling of water, 
Only the breeze in the branches. 
Only the call of the blue jays 
Broke the mysterious silence. 

Far through the canyon I wandered, 
Far to her camp in the redwoods — 
The home of the Indian woman. 
Wrinkled and old and decrepit, 

[83] 



84 Legends of San Francisco 



Learned in the lore of the Tamals. 
Nearing her camp-fire, I saw her, 
And halted in fear, lest I trespass. 

She sat like a Priestess of Forests, 
Chanting with weird intonations, 
Slowly, with strange repetitions, 
Swaying in rythmical measure. 
Round her the wild forest creatures 
Gathered and sat at attention. 
Birds ceased their anthems of evening, 
Fluttered to branches above her, 
Listened as if fascinated. 

The singing was hushed when she saw me; 
Away fled the wild things to cover. 
''Welcome, my friend," said the Tamal. 
"A seat at my camp-fire is waiting." 
Her welcome was hearty and friendly. 
But out of the shade of the forests 
Came chattering, chirping and barking, 
Resenting, reproaching, complaining. 



The Lake of Merita 85 



I sat by the camp-fire and listened 
In wonder. The scene was uncanny. 
At last, when the plaints had subsided, 
Or faded away in the distance, 
I said , 'Tell me, friend, by what magic 
Are wild creatures called to your camp-fire. 
Is it a secret you cherish? 
May you reveal it to others?" 

She gazed in the flickering embers, 
Dreamily gazed in the embers. 
Then she replied, ''You have heard me 
Singing the song of Merita, 
The magical song of Merita, 
Merita, the friend of wild creatures. 
Wearers of fur or of feathers. 
Creatures of forest and mountain, 
Birds of the sea and the marshes. 

I will tell you the tale of Merita, 

Merita, the daughter of Yado, 

Chief of the fishermen people 

Who lived by the Lake of the Oak Trees, 

Far to the east of the harbor. 



86 Legends of San Francisco 

Slender and tall was Merita, 

Dark were her eyes, and her tresses 

Glossy and black as the feathers 

That gleam on the wings of the raven. 

Gentle and kind was Merita, 

Serving the young and the aged, 

Nursing the sick and the wounded. 

Cheering when sorrow was breaking 

The heart of some one of her people. 

The Gods taught Merita the language 

Of birds that made nests in the oak trees, 

Of water fowl thronging the tules, 

Of all furry creatures that peopled 

The hills and the valleys around them. 

They came from afar when she called them, 

Called with her song, and they hastened 

To tell her their troubles and sorrows. 

She bound up their wounds and caressed them, 

And told them the wiles of the hunters. 

Wandering one day to the northward, 
She came to a creek where strawberries, 
Ripe and delicious were growing 
Beside a small stream that cascaded 



The Lake of Merita 87 



Down from the Peak of the Grizzlies. 
Refreshing herself with the berries 
Se sat in the shade of the live oaks, 
The ancient and wide-spreading live oaks, 
And called to the wild forest creatures, 
Singing the Song of Merita. 

'Come, come, come, birds of the air. 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, tell how you fare. 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, wild creatures, know 

That I love you. 
Come, come, come, tell me your woe. 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, you will I serve, 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, you well deserve. 

And I love you. 
Come, come, come, I bring you aid. 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, be not afraid, 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come — come — come — come.' 



Legends of San Francisco 



Before the monotonous chanting 

Was finished, the Blue Jays and Robins, 

Pigeons, and Bluebirds, and Blackbirds 

Flew to the branches above her, 

And tipping their heads to observe her 

Opened their bills in complaining. 

Down from the canyon a white fawn 

Came with a shaft in her shoulder. 

Fell at the feet of Merita, 

Bleating her plea for protection. 

Quickly the arrow was taken 

Out of her quivering shoulder. 

Then came the hunter, pursuing — 

Halted, and gazed in amazement. 

'I am Zarando, the Tamal, 

Chief of the Thousand Oaks People. 

Pardon me, if I have wounded 

A pet of the beautiful stranger.' 

Under the arm of Merita 

The frightened fawn crept for protection. 

T am Merita, the daughter 

Of Yado, the Chief of the Fishers 

Who live by the Lake of the Oak Trees. 



The Lake of Merita 89 



The Fawn is my friend, and she answers 
My call to all wild forest creatures.' 

'I have a call,' said Zarando, 

*A call to decoy the wild creatures 

Into the range of my arrows. 

Yet few are deceived by the pretense. 

Teach me your call, oh, Merita. 

'Nay, nay, Zarando; love only 
Will draw the wild creatures around you. 
Love does not change — cannot injure — 
The shaft is not aimed at a loved one. 
If you would draw the wild creatures. 
Love them, and guard them from danger.' 

*I am a hunter, Merita, 

And yet would I gladly abandon 

The bow and the trap to secure 

The charm that the Great Spirit gives you. 

Tell me the secret, Merita, 

Teach me to speak in the language 

Of all the wild creatures around you; 

Teach me to know and to love them.' 



90 Legends of San Francisco 



Then were the first lessons given, 
Where now gather thousands of students, 
Beneath the old wide-spreading live oaks 
That stand by the stream in the Campus. 
There the first Teacher and Pupil, 
Merita and young Chief Zarando, 
Met on the mornings that followed, 
Met for the love of the study. 
And then for the love of each other. 

No more were the Tamals and Fishers 
Rivals, at war with each other; 
United they lived as one people — 
One people around the great harbor. 
Zarando, their chief ruled with justice; 
Merita, their Queen ruled with mercy. 
Their village grew up where the oak trees 
Stand on a point in the Lakelet. 
The water birds came at her calling, 
And thronged on the Lake of Merita, 
Holding conventions, and heeding 
The judgments she gave in their quarrels. 
No one disturbed them nor harmed them ; 
There was a refuge from danger. 



The Lake of Merita 91 



It is said that souls of the lovers 

Still live in the oak trees that border 

The shore of the Lake of Merita; 

And that water-birds come at their calling, 

And throng, unafraid, on the waters, 

Hearing the song of Merita: 

'Come, come, come, birds of the air. 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, tell how you fare, 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, I bring you aid, 

For I love you. 
Come, come, come, be not afraid, 

For I love you.' 
Come, come, come, 
Come, 
Come, 
Come." 



[the end] 



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